


You Are My Dream

by mylarentsloveme



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry and Louis are married, M/M, also harry is not cheating on louis, i kno it seems like it but, liam is a politician, niall is in charge of techy stuff, oh and louis is the star of their drag show, zayn is their guatemalan maid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:56:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylarentsloveme/pseuds/mylarentsloveme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry owns a drag club in Miami with his husband, Louis. They have the perfect life, until their son delivers news that will change everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> So this is based heavily on "The Birdcage" directed by Mike Nichols. Almost entirely self indulgent, so, hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i basically just quoted the movie entirely lol

Harry smiled to himself, pleased with the night's successful turn out. His drag club, The Birdcage, was the biggest and most popular in all of Miami.

 

  
Suddenly, he was brought out of his thoughts by the beeping of his cell phone. He answered quickly, the panicked voice of his friend and tech coordinator, Niall, nearly drowned out by the loud music streaming from the stage.

 

  
"Harry! Where is Starina? She goes on in five minutes."

 

  
"Fuck. I'll try to find her. Call Zayn." Harry replied, struggling to keep his calm stature as he hung up and looked through all the backstage rooms.

 

  
Fucking Louis. It was just like him to pull something like this, right when the show was going so smoothly. He left the backstage area, immediately running into the crowd of people enjoying the music and watching the girls perform flawlessly.

 

  
The curly haired man waved and greeted a few friends as he weaved through the audience, making his destination. He entered the control room briskly, met with the sight of Niall with a headset in the dim lighting.

 

  
"Where's Starina?" Harry asked, fiddling with the ring on his left hand.

 

  
"I talked to Zayn, said she'd be down in five." Niall replied, and they both watched as the final notes of the song finished, the audience applauding in a collective roar.

 

  
Harry grabbed Niall by the forearm, tugging him along as he rushed out of the booth and arrived backstage to see the showgirls quick-changing their outfits into tribal skirts, bras and hats.

 

  
"I used to think it was weird that I got turned on by men dressed as women, bein' that I'm straight, but some of them are just so fit." Niall laughed, Irish accent lilting his voice, as he fiddled with the knobs on the backstage controls.

 

 

 

  
Harry nodded distractedly, as his attention was currently elsewhere. Louis was always on his mind, but right now it was the opposite of good thoughts. Louis - Starina - was the most favorited act of the entire show, and of course he was pulling this shit minutes before he was meant to go on.

 

  
Zayn rushed down the stairs from their house upstairs, jogging up to Harry and Niall with an obvious sway to his hips.

 

  
"Zero. Starina won't go on, she's a'still in her robe." Zayn said helplessly, Spanish accent thicker than Harry's hair. Niall stared shamelessly at his denim booty shorts and exposed waist, white crop top putting his flawless body on display.

 

  
"Damn." Harry groaned angrily, pulling the ends of his hair in annoyance.

 

  
"Please, I don't know what happened." Zayn answered, shrugging his shoulders. Harry guided him back towards the stairs, speaking almost as quickly as his scrambling mind worked to figure something out.

 

  
"Go upstairs. Try and get her ready, I'll be right behind you. Go!" He gave the other man a hard shove, ignoring his pained cry as he stumbled up the staircase. Harry rolled his eyes and turned back around, checking his watch and rushing towards Niall.

 

  
"Niall," he groaned, before pulling himself together as best as he could. "Tell Carmen to get ready to do Starina's number. Just in case." Fucking Louis.

 

 

*•*•*•*

 

 

Zayn stood in front of a big lump underneath a mountain of blankets, Louis' smooth legs peeking out as he lay moaning in despair.

 

  
"Honey please, you gotta get dressed for me now, please!" Zayn whined, a pair of black nylon tights in his hands.

 

  
"No, Zayn, Victoria Page will not dance the dance of the red shoes tonight," Louis said blankly, before crying out hopelessly. "Or any other night." Starina was Victoria Page's stage name, and Louis liked to take pride in his local fame, but he couldn't bear the heartbreak he was currently feeling. 

 

"Okay, but how about just these stockings? Okay?" The black haired man replied, completely disregarding Louis' statement and fumbling with the nylon fabric.

 

  
"Victoria Page is dead." Louis dramatically continued, before being ignored by Zayn once again.

 

  
"Okay but watch how nice I'm gonna put it for you." He answered, beginning to roll the stockings onto the feet poking out from under the blankets.

 

  
"Do you know how she died?" Louis said valiantly, silently pleased when Zayn asked, "How?"

 

  
"Alone. Weeping for her lover." Louis spoke morosely, peeking his head out from under the blankets at Zayn's sad sound. His face was covered in stage makeup, long eyelashes coated in black mascara and hair pulled back in a nude wig cap. He took a long look at his olive skinned companion, a concerned emotion casting over his face.

 

  
"Darling have you eaten? You look haggard!" He grabbed a few pills off the nightstand, handing them over to his friend.

 

"What are these?" Zayn asked, taking them and looking at the small objects in his hand.

 

  
"They're supplements. I bought them for Harry, but-" Louis cut himself off, a sob emitting from his throat. "That's all over now." His face crumpled up in despair, retreating back into his mound of blankets.

 

  
"Okay." Zayn sighed, rolling his eyes. Louis was being slightly overdramatic. Harry wasn't the cheating type, but maybe he was, what did Zayn know? He was only the housekeeper.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm bad at ending my chapters. whatev

Harry rushed up the stairs into his house, practically stumbling over his legs in his haste to reach the room Louis was most likely occupying.

 

" _Louis_!" He roared angrily, storming down the hallway towards the door. Louis jumped up from the bed immediately, squealing as he stood on his feet and dashed to the door, slamming it in Harry's face.

 

"Louis, what the _hell_ -" Louis dragged the closest sofa in front of the locked door, ignoring the sound of the doorknob jiggling on the other side.

 

"Louis, open the door, baby, c'mon." Harry's muffled voice begged, tone suddenly gentle.

 

"Get out!" Louis shouted angrily from the other side, and Harry's voice raised in response.

 

"Open up, Louis, c'mon!" Harry knocked on the door impatiently, seconds from just busting it down.

 

"Go away!" Louis' panicked voice yelled over Harry's, motioning for Zayn to help him place the couch in front of the door.

 

"No, I don't want him to see me, I'm _hideous_." Louis cried out as Harry's pleas grew louder and angrier.

 

"Won't - _fucking_ \- open the door." Harry mumbled as he frantically fiddled with the door knob, accidentally pulling it off in the process. He threw it behind him carelessly, growing increasingly stressed by Louis' shouts of over-exaggerated terror.

 

"I'm calling 911!" Was heard on the other side after Harry helplessly slammed his palms against the door in quick succession.

 

"I'm going to knock this goddamn door down if you don't-" Louis screeched in fear and ran back to the bed, hearing Harry shout at them to open the door once again.

 

"I'm trying but he's so crazy." Zayn replied, moving the couch back to its original place.

 

"Louis!" Harry hurled himself at the door, and without the couch blocking it, stumbled in as the entrance finally gave way. Louis screamed at the sound of Harry's angry voice, something he didn't use often, and ran to hide behind his rack of clothes.

 

"Are you trying to ruin me?!" Harry asked, pulling at his hair in frustration.

 

"Don't look at me. I'm _hideous_! Fat and hideous." Louis hid himself behind his favorite Ralph Lauren dress, covering everything but his face. Harry rolled his eyes, mouthing along to Louis' words, used to this nonsense spewing from his lips. Louis sobbed, before continuing.

 

"Oh, Zayn, I'm in such pain."

 

"Aw, honey I know. It's gonna pass." Zayn answered with sympathy as he walked from his seat on the couch towards the center of the room.

 

"No, it'll never pass! I hate my life." Louis whined in agony before moving behind the curtain of his dressing room.

 

Harry, having had enough, advanced on Louis and groaned saying, "Louis, there is a packed house out there-" and stopped as he got tangled in the curtain. Louis sighed long sufferingly, walking away from the dressing room and avoiding Harry's hands.

 

"That's all I am to you, isn't it, a meal ticket. Never mind about my feelings, never mind about my suffering. It's just about your show. Not even our show, _your_ show. I want a palimony agreement." Louis glared at his husband, finally detangled from the curtain but looking much more ruffled. "And I want one now."

 

Harry, almost amused, leaned on a chair and replied, "Well I don't have a palimony agreement on me right now, is tomorrow alright?"

 

"Don't use that tone to me." Louis furrowed his eyebrows, gaining more anger at Harry's confused expression.

 

"What tone?"

 

"That sarcastic, contemptuous tone that means you know everything because you're a man, and I know nothing, because I'm a woman."

 

"You're not a woman." Harry answered firmly, and dodged the shoe Louis threw at him.

 

"You bastard." He sobbed again, before Zayn interjected.

 

"Everybody, take it easy." And Louis approached him, resting his hands on his chest.

 

"Whatever I am, _he_ made me." Louis pointed at Harry, still standing in his position by the chair. "I was adorable once. Young, and full of hope. Now, look at me." He whined in despair, walking towards a mirror and sighing at the reflection.

  
  
"I'm a short, fat, insecure, middle-aged _thing_!" He cried out, pulling at the fake breasts underneath his robe.

 

"I made you short?" Harry asked, almost completely serious, and Louis covered his ears, screaming and flopping back onto the bed.

  
  
Niall came rushing in at that moment, saying in a nearly panicked tone, "What do I do? The number's almost over. Do I send Carmen on for Starina?"

 

Harry looked down at Louis' apparently distressed form, before turning back to Niall.

 

"We have no choice. Yes." He replied gravely, ignoring Louis' gasp.

 

"No! Not Carmen, _how dare you_?" Louis directed his shocked glare towards Harry, sitting up from the bed.

 

"Do it." Harry told him, as Niall looked at them both in confusion, and Louis continued his emphatic protests.

 

"Niall, please. I will go on. The people have come to see Starina. Starina will not disappoint them, even in this state." Louis patriotically stated, allowing Niall to drape his arm over his shoulder.

 

"Alright, run the Mambo number, tell Beatrice to get the staircase ready. Now, go." Harry's take-charge demeanor took over, and Niall nodded obediently before running back out.

 

Harry placed his hand in Louis', with the other supporting his lower back, as he gently led him to the makeup mirror.

 

"My hands are shaking. Zayn I need some Pirin tablets, quickly." Louis panted out in quick breaths.

 

"What are you taking?" Harry asked worriedly, and Louis jerked from his hold violently before seating himself in front of the mirror.

 

"Nothing." Harry frowned in concern, hoping that his husband hadn't gotten hooked on some drug that would cause further problems for his already unstable demeanor. He wasn't sure why Louis was complaining about being middle aged - he only just turned thirty - but he was definitely acting as though he were in the throes of a midlife crisis.

 

"Okay, but just one. One before the show, and one after. No more, so don't ask me!" Zayn instructed sternly, placing the pills in Louis' hand. Harry stood behind Louis' seat and watched as he kissed Zayn's hand gratefully.

 

"Thank you, thank you, my darling Zayn." Harry felt a rush of possessiveness and began massaging Louis' tense shoulders.

 

"The room is so crowded. Could you please, please give me a moment to myself, to prepare?" Louis slapped his hands away after a few moments, an annoyed pitch to his voice.

 

Zayn grabbed Harry by the elbow, mumbling, "Let's leave her alone, come on." And Harry let himself be led away. Louis tended to get like this under pressure before a show, some days worse than others. Louis began shaving his face, and as Harry and Zayn approached the door, Harry turned to him angrily.

 

" _What are you doing_?" He asked in a hushed voice.

 

"What?" Zayn asked, leaving the room as Harry closed the door behind him.

 

"Why are you giving him drugs? What the hell are Pirin tablets?" He got out in a rush, resting a hand on his hip in annoyance. Zayn sighed and rolled his eyes.

 

"It's aspirin with the 'a' and the 's' scraped off." Harry rested his hand on Zayn's cheek in wonder.

 

"My God, what a brilliant idea." He nearly laughed but stopped himself before going back into the room with Louis, Zayn walking to the kitchen to hopefully do his job. Zayn was their maid, but he was more of a friend than a maid, especially because half the time he wasn't ever actually cleaning. His main argument was that it ruined his cuticles.

 

"You're shaving your chest now?" Harry asked disapprovingly at the sight of Louis running the electric razor along his pecs.

 

"I had no time to wax." Louis replied coldly, shaving off the last strip of fine hair.


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so it's been a while sorry im not good at this  
> super short short short chapter but the next one will prb be longer? idk tbh i'm jsut writing whatever i feel is a good enough length lol

"Indifference is the most awful thing in the world, Harold." Louis spoke emotionlessly, looking at himself in the mirror while he powdered his freshly shaved chest. Harry sighed as he sat down on the couch behind his partner, submitting to his ultimate fate as Louis continued to speak.

 

 

"I have done everything I could to make myself attractive for you. I've lost and gained over a hundred pounds in the last year. I've yo-yo'd from a sixteen to a ten, to a sixteen and you... you've never said a word." Harry struggled not to roll his eyes, Louis was perfect no matter what, so of course he wasn't going to say that Louis looked bad or good, because either way it would bite him in the ass. If he pointed out that Louis had lost weight, that apparently implied he looked bad before, but if he said nothing it also apparently means something too. There was no winning in this scenario for him.

 

 

"Not one hint of encouragement, not one scrap of validation." Louis set down the mascara after applying a coat to his eyelashes, looking at Harry in the mirror. "If it wasn't for the Pirin tablets I- I don't think I could go on."

 

 

"If you don't finish putting your makeup on, I'm gonna kill myself." Harry mumbled, evading the topic, mainly because Starina had to be onstage soon and they had zero time to discuss something like this. Louis turned around to face Harry, a resigned smile on his melancholy face.

 

 

"You don't love me anymore, Harry." Aforesaid man scoffed, swiping his hand from his forehead to his chin.

 

 

"Oh, shit." He half-laughed under his breath, disbelieving and incredulous. He loved Louis more than he loved himself, and it was almost insulting that Louis would dare to say otherwise.

 

 

"There's a man in your life." Louis continued on, and Harry put his hand down in absolute shock.

 

 

"What?" He stared at Louis, begging him to laugh and say he was joking, or something to that extent.

 

 

"I sense it," Louis replied plainly, before shrugging. "I sense it, and I saw a bottle of white wine chilling in the refrigerator." Louis spoke almost sadly, noticing Harry's stricken expression. He'd been caught, he should have known better than to put the wine where it could be so easily seen.

 

 

"I only drink red," Louis whispered dramatically, "and so do you." He calmly stood up, handing Harry an anklet before sitting on the other side of the chair. Harry knelt down and held onto Louis' dainty calf before clumsily clipping the silver jewelry onto Louis' ankle.

 

 

"There's no man." Harry looked desperately to Louis' downcast countenance, continuing in a serious tone, "I'm switching to white because red has tannins." Louis' brows furrowed, deliberating Harry's admittedly lame excuse.

 

 

"Now listen, there's a hundred and fifty people out there, and they're all waiting for you. Waiting to applaud you, to applaud the _great Starina_." Harry smiled encouragingly at his husband, stroking his ankle reverently.

 

 

" _TANNINS_?!" Louis suddenly shouted angrily before kicking Harry in the chest and knocking him onto his back.

 

 

"What do you do while I'm on stage?" Louis questioned in outrage as he breathed heavily, looking down at Harry's dumbfounded expression.

 

 

"Nothing, I lie here." Harry answered quickly, which was a lie. He watched Louis perform more often than not; Starina was a force to be reckoned with and he was absolutely entranced every time he had the chance to enjoy his love's entertainment. But he was currently under the wrath of an angry Louis, and his lies were becoming more and more difficult to spit out, tasting rotten in his mouth.

 

 

"Where do you go while I'm killing myself on stage?" Louis interrogated again, slapping Harry's thigh with the sleeve of his silk kimono. He gasped in to swallow the oncoming slew of sobbing, before pointing at the other man's face.

 

 

"I know that look. Go ahead, hit me." Harry immediately declined, but Louis urged him on, "Go on. That's what you want to do, isn't it? Well, _do it_. Hit me. Go on, go on." Harry lifted his hand in front of his face, patience wearing paper-thin, and looked at the time dwindling away on his platinum watch. "Hit me- augh!" Louis screamed as Harry grabbed him by the hips and lifted him off his perch on his own stomach, and roughly threw him onto the bed.

 

 

"Starina needs to be onstage in less than two minutes. Be ready when spotlight turns on, and I'll be announcing your turn. _Go_." Harry firmly stated, before spinning around and running out of the room. God knows what kind of murder scene would have taken place if he hadn't have taken charge, but he rushed out of _that_ landmine and calmly walked up to Niall at the switchboard.

 

 

"Please tell me why I ever got married." Harry sighed long-sufferingly before grabbing the mic to announce Starina, as Carmen's current performance of _La Virgen Lloraba_ was coming to a close. 

 

 

"Because you love him and you'd be miserable without him, so might as well be miserable with him, amiright man?" Niall chuckled and shoved a potato crisp in his mouth, and Harry nodded in agreement.

 

 

"God only knows what I'd be without him."


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ohhhh my god i am soooo so so so sso bad at updating im so sorry if anyones reading this i'll be better ok i odnt want to let u down

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Harry spoke in a booming voice into the microphone backstage as the applause died down for the previous act. “The one, the only, the incomparable, Starina.”  The drum roll’s volume increased and the spotlights zoomed around the stage as though frantically searching for Louis, which Harry did on a daily basis, so he could relate.

 

The music came to a climax and Starina’s immaculate figure walked down the staircase, before the spotlight shined down on her beautiful face and the entire audience burst into a welcoming applause. She was always a joyous and incandescently bright star on stage, thus her name was born. She blew kisses at the crowd, still being showered with praises and claps, before Harry decided he had to join in and began clapping from his place in the wing of the stage. Starina looked to him, raising her eyebrows, before blowing a kiss right in his direction. Harry couldn’t help but let his widest smile take over, puckering his lips and blowing a kiss back to Starina. He loved her just as much as he loved Louis.

 

“Thank you, and welcome to the Birdcage. I’ve just come back from a Safari.” She smiled, gesturing to her faux leopard fur adorning her curvaceous body. “And look what I picked up, a new scarf.  It even comes with accessories!“ A tail sprouted out from the side of it and the audience roared in laughter; they adored her, as usual, but everyone loved her, so.

 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, I didn’t kill him!” Dramatic pause. “He died and left me everything.” He smiled and mimicked a sassy hair flip, throwing the whole house into a cackling stupor. Harry smiled despite himself, even though he hears that joke every other night. Starina’s eyes widened suddenly, and she began looking amongst the audience members frantically. “Oh, oh, oh, where is the adorable couple celebrating their anniversary?!” When she caught sight of the elderly man and woman, she cooed happily. The man didn’t seem all too pleased, but his wife was wearing a pleasant smile as she waved up to Starina with glittering eyes.

 

“Oh, Mon Congrats, you sweeties. Muah, muah, muah.” She blew a few kisses in their direction as the audience clapped and whistled accordingly.

 

“Now, I may have something to celebrate myself very soon. I think … I have found _the one_.” She spoke seriously, as everyone began to “ooh” conspiratorially. Harry looked down at his watch to check the time, he was running low on time and needed to get to his secret meeting soon, but he wanted to be sure Louis didn’t think he was cheating on him, or whatever other silly thought he had going in his head.

 

“Yes,” Louis spoke as the drum beat kicked in and his song began. “You know I hate to brag but,” he started singing his song. Harry smiled one more time before slowly inching away, knowing his time had run out. Louis’ soft and reedy voice was singing “ _I know this grocery clerk unprepossessing… Some think the boy’s a jerk_!” and Harry was stumbling up the stairs backstage clumsily, guiltily looking behind his shoulder, as though Louis would be standing there with that deadly look in his eyes. He wasn’t, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

 

Harry opened the door to their upstairs flat with a gasp, and his heart was racing from guilt and worry, not the physical exertion. Zayn was dancing in his booty jean shorts and a bra while cleaning the kitchen, shaking his hips unapologetically to Gloria Estefan’s Conga. As the chorus made its second repeat, Harry furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance and rushed to turn the music off.

 

“”Scuse me.” Harry spoke firmly, rolling his eyes when Zayn turned around in shock and said a fake embarrassed, “Hello?”

 

His bra strap slipped down and he pulled it back up, gasping for air after that very strenuous dance routine. “Hello, what did you think?” He propped his hip out and leaned some body weight on the broom.

 

“I think you look like Lucy’s stunt double.” Harry answered flatly as he walked away briskly.

 

“No, I’m a combinacion of Lucy and Ricky.” Zayn smiled, Harry walking by with two empty champagne glasses.

 

“And it’s _terrifying_.” He replied emphatically, setting them down on a silver platter. He ignored Zayn’s unamused facial expression, moving onto more important subjects, like his impending guest. He was going to be here any minute now. “Go get the white wine out of the refrigerator, put it in an ice bucket, chill two glasses and take the night off.” He ordered before quickly striding to grab a candle from a side table.

 

“What is that? Why are joo talkin’ to me like I’m jour servant?” Zayn whined, shocked at Harry’s strange behavior.

 

“Because you’re our faithful houseman, now _go_.” Harry stressed out.

 

“Yeah, but my father was the Shaman of his tribe, ok? And my mother was the high priestess, ok?” Zayn said with confidence, rolling his “r’s” and opening the fridge to retrieve the prized white wine bottle.

 

“Then why the hell did they move to New Jersey?”

 

“ I don’t know, they so stupid. Ay, ‘cause they want me to have a career. Hello? A _career_. When joo gonna let me audition for joo again?” Zayn asked as he strode up to Harry, holding the wine in one hand and the wine glasses in another.

 

“When you have talent.” Harry simply replied, almost laughing in remembrance of Zayn’s most recent audition. He wasn’t terrible, but he needed some work on the confidence level. It’s like his huge ego disappeared the second he got on stage, so talent wasn't necessarily the faulty factor.

 

Zayn’s smile disappeared and he pouted at Harry’s retreating figure.

 

“Now take that wig off or I’ll tell Louis you’re wearing it.” He gestured towards the red shoulder length wig adorning Zayn’s head, and Zayn countered quickly.

 

“Joo do that an’ I’m gonna tell him that you’re seein’ somebody else while he’s on the stage.” Zayn gestured to the bottle in his hand and Harry turned around with a murderous look in his eyes.

 

“I have two words for you: Green Card.” Zayn scoffed in annoyance and Harry continued, “Now go. Leave the front door unlocked.” He went to his room and Zayn mumbled under his breath.

 

“You’re sush a bitch to everybody. Ay, come on Gloria.” He sighed in resignation and strolled out of the room with his jukebox in hand.

 

Harry left his room, wearing his nice sequined jacket over a tight black t-shirt and his favorite white skinny jeans. Sure, he wasn’t a teenager anymore, but he could still pull it off. He wanted to look nice for his visitor, and they haven’t seen each other in what felt like ages. He walked out the back door into the outdoor patio and pool area, turning the lights up to a dim, comfortable setting. He lit the candle and put it on a small table, looking over the nice little set-up he had going on.

 

Everything was going to be _fine_. Louis was not going to come upstairs for at least another hour, and that should be plenty of time to get things over with. _Everything was going to be fine._ The front door opened and Harry willed his hands to stop shaking. Best case scenario, it would be George, and worst case scenario, it would be Louis.  _Fuck_.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> meet harrys guest and also other stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i don't have a good reason for not updating lol but enjoy. or don't idk

A handsome young man let himself into the house, backpack slung over one shoulder, and he casually strode through the house, before stopping at the door leading to the back porch.

 

Harry was fussing with the candles when he saw George walk outside, and he quickly stood straight up from his bent position, wiping his sweaty palms on the seat of his trousers.

 

"Hey."

 

"Hey," Harry responded, and they met each other in a tender embrace. Harry pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and squeezed him tightly, stroking a hand through the other man's hair, and quietly said, "You keep getting better looking."

 

The other man raised his eyebrows and chuckled before replying, "Oh. Thank you. So do you."

 

They separated, Harry looking down at his own body. 

 

"Really? I feel bloated. You really think I look good?"

 

He giggled before saying in a serious tone, "You look great."

 

Harry brushed a delicate hand through the other man's hair, fondly murmuring, "That’s very sweet. I’m glad you cut your hair."

 

He received a happy smile, and quickly asked in concern, "Did you eat?

 

The man sighed with a long-suffering look in his eyes, before saying, "Yes, I ate."

 

Harry rushed over to the fridge, "Something to drink?"

 

He seemed to think it over, before saying, "Beer, if you have it."

 

Harry scoffed and furrowed his eyebrows, leading them to the outside patio by the pool.

 

"I do not. Talk about bloat." He gestured towards the empty glasses between the lounge chairs, holding up a bottle of white wine with a questioning lilt. "White wine?" Harry poured both glasses to the brim at the other man's nod of affirmation.

 

They both relaxed into their seats, Harry still clearly on edge, and the man asked hesitantly, "How long has Louis been on?"

 

"He just went on. I gave Zayn the night off. So we’re all alone, as you requested. And since when do you like beer?"

 

"So, I have something to tell you." He ignored Harry's question, clearly wishing to get straight to the point. Harry sat up straight, his muscles tensing up.

 

"Yes."

 

"But I don’t want you to get how you get." The other man rested a hand on Harry's knee, preparing to drop the proverbial bomb.

 

"Oh, god."

 

"I’m getting married."

 

Well that was completely unexpected. Harry felt his stomach drop, a cold stone of dread weighing him down.

 

"Oh."

 

"I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. It’s a girl."

 

Harry scoffed, rubbing his temples with both hands as George continued to ruin his entire life.

 

"I met her at school. It’s wonderful. What do you..." He paused upon seeing Harry's demeanor, "Are you upset?"

 

"Let me tell you why. First of all, you are only eighteen-"

 

"Look, I know I’m young. But you’ve always said I was a very level-headed guy. And I am. You’re right. I mean I have job offers, I know exactly what I want my future to be. And I have an incredible role model." George raised his eyebrows, gesturing to Harry, who laughed humorlessly, running a hand through his hair.

 

"No, please."

 

"Oh, it’s true. I’m the only guy in my fraternity who isn’t from a broken home."

 

"Stop flattering me. It’s cheap." Harry laughed, and they both settled into a tense silence, Harry avoiding eye contact with his son.

 

"Is it alright, Dad?"

 

"Does it matter?" Harry asked with defeat, throwing his hands in the air.

 

"Yes. Of course it does. I want you to say it’s okay, before Louis comes up and starts screaming." George rolled his eyes and looked to his father with hope. Harry stayed silent for a moment, thoughts running amok through his mind. 

 

"I can’t," He shook his head rapidly, continuing, "And I won’t. This is too crazy. You do this, you’re on your own. Got that sport? Don’t come back here, don’t ask me for anything. Okay? I want nothing to do with it." Harry spoke firmly, eyebrows furrowed with decisiveness.

 

"Okay," George nodded, clapping his hands together with solid finality, "If that’s how you feel."

 

"I do." They stared at each other in silence, both refusing to back down. George stood up, looking down at his father one last time.

 

"Fine. Goodbye, Dad." George picked up his bags that he'd left at the front door, turning around before resting a hand on the doorknob.

 

"Goodbye, son." Harry stood up and firmly shook hands with George, until they had been holding each others' hand for longer than necessary. Harry finally broke, letting go of his hand and gathering him in a warm hug, "Come here. You were patient and you called my bluff."

 

"It was good," George laughed.

 

"Really?"

 

"Not bad."

 

"I backed off a little bit." Harry smiled as they separated, holding his son by the shoulders.

 

"Tell me it’s alright." George spoke seriously, longing for his father's approval.

 

"It’s alright. I always dreamed you would get married. Just not so soon." Harry walked away, leading his son back outside. 

 

"Come on. Drop your bags. Stay awhile. Let’s drink a toast to this catastrophe." Harry shook the bottle in his hand, before laughing at George's expression and getting out, "I’m kidding. It’s alright. What’s the young lady’s name?"

 

George smiled fondly, his love for this girl clear as day in his eyes.

 

"Jennifer."

 

*•*•*•*

 

"Are you crazy?! You must be, to ask that question. You wanna get married? You’re not even eighteen!" Liam Payne, Vice President of the Coalition of Moral Order, shouted angrily, face red and jugular vein visible.

 

"Who is this boy, Jenny? When did you last see him?" his wife, Sophia Payne, asked calmly, though still obviously concerned.

 

"Don't call me Jenny. This afternoon at two o’clock," She paused before rushing to say, "We’ve been sleeping together for a year."

 

"Oh, God! Has he been tested?" Liam yelled out, disgust clear in his tone.

 

Sophia blushed and screeched in a flustered manner, "Liam!"

 

"Yes, and so have I." Jennifer replied levelly.

 

"Oh!" Sophia gasped in horror, before smoothing down her pink knee-length skirt, although there were no wrinkles visible. She probably had no idea Jennifer was even sexually active.

 

"Look, this has to wait until after the election. I can’t deal with this now." Liam continued to pace back and forth, wringing his hands, with rage still brewing beneath the surface.

 

"Where does he come from, Jenny...fer? Who is his father?" Sophia asked, curious to know more about her future son-in-law.

 

"His father is in the arts. He’s on the Council of Cultural Arts." Jennifer responded, as she had rehearsed this part with James multiple times. She couldn't tell her conservative father that his son-in-law's Dad runs a drag show, she'd be burned at the stake in seconds.

 

"Really?" Sophia raised an impressed eyebrow, leaning forward to hear more.

 

"Did they fund the Mapplethorpe exhibit?" Liam snorted, leaning against a wall.

 

"No! Goodness, no. He’s a cultural attache to Greece." Jennifer smiled, hiding the recurring shitshitshit going through her head. They hadn't rehearsed that.

 

"Really?" Sophia sounded even more impressed, raising a hand to her chest.

 

"What the hell is that?" Liam groaned out, annoyance written all over his face.

 

"That’s kind of a diplomatic post, isn’t it? It’s a sort of an ambassador. What does the mother do?" Sophia looked back to her daughter, an encouraging grin on her face. Jennifer hesitated, because she really did not want to lie about this one. There was no mother, and yet she still had to have an answer.

 

"She's a housewife."

 

"Oh, that’s really refreshing, isn’t it, Liam?" Sophia clapped her hands together happily, looking over to Liam, who was typing something out on his phone.

 

"I can’t talk about it now." He responded distractedly.

 

Jennifer's cell phone rang loudly, and she rushed to answer it, saying a breathless greeting to George.

 

"You alright?" He asked on the other line.

 

"Yes. I just told them." Jennifer hoped she could somehow send a mental message of I FUCKED UP through the phone waves, with some divine magical cellular powers or something.

 

"Yeah. Me too. And my father is very, very excited. He’s holding his glass to toast us right now. I’m going to put him on." He held the phone out to his Dad, who was quite tipsy at this point. Harry looked at it confusedly, before George sighed and said, "Yes. Take it."

 

"You said his parents were in Greece." Liam looked up and grabbed the phone from her.

 

"Dad, give it back!" Jennifer reached for the phone, trying to take it out of his grasp as he stood and walked away, putting George and Harry on speaker.

 

"Take it." George could be heard again through the tinny speakers, clearly annoyed with his father. Some rustling was heard before Harry's voice filtered through.

 

"Hello, Jennifer. Here’s to your future. Shit!" Sophia gasped loudly at the foul language, Harry continuing with a laugh, "No, dear, that was not my toast. I just broke my glass. I’m sorry." 

 

"That’s all right. It was nice talking to you. We’ll talk again soon. Goodbye!" Jennifer had grabbed her cell phone from her Dad and hung up quickly, looking at him with furrowed eyebrows and a pinched mouth. "How dare you listen in on our conversation!"

 

"You said his parents were in Greece." Liam accused.

 

"They are." Jennifer insisted.

 

"You saw this boy at 2 o’clock this afternoon and now he’s in Greece with his parents?"

 

"No. I... Greece? They're back for the winter. They are at their vacation house in South Beach." Jennifer could feel the sweat gathering at the back of her neck. 

 

"Is that like Palm Beach?" Sophia asked, bringing herself back into the conversation.

 

"It’s close. It’s about two minutes from the fish island where Jeb Bush lives." Jennifer said, relieved that her mother was so easily convinced.

 

"Really?" She replied happily, throwing an approving grin to Liam. He didn't let go of his angry glare, looking between the deceptively sweet faces of his wife and daughter. 

 

*•*•*•*

 

Harry was halfway through unbuttoning his shirt when the sound of the door slamming and quick footsteps rushed to the bedroom. The door flung open behind him, Louis rushing in with crazed eyes and a finger pointing at Harry.

 

"Ah-ha!"

 

"Wait." Harry rushed out, as Louis rustled through the room and upturned almost everything, searching for Harry's presumed lover.

 

"Who is he? Where is he?! Where is your little whore?" Louis yelled accusingly, hair wild, black kohl still outlining his azure eyes.

 

"Will you stop screaming? It’s George." Harry whispered harshly, sitting down on the bed with his shirt completely unbuttoned. Louis halted in his mad quest to clear everything out from underneath the bed, turning to Harry with disbelief. 

 

"George?"

 

"Go check. He’s asleep in his room if you don’t believe me." Harry sighed out, shrugging out of his shirt and kicking off his shoes.

 

"Oh. Why didn’t you tell me?" Louis had a bit of guilt in his eyes, sitting down beside Harry's laid out body. Harry chuckled drily, now in just his pants, and he settled under the blankets before closing his eyes.

 

"Surprise."


End file.
